The Resident OddParents, pt 2
by rocksfall1
Summary: When Cosmo's new "pet" is accidentally set free, the town of Dimmsdale descends into chaos. Only Dimmsdale's greatest heroes can stop the infection's spread, but can they buy Timmy enough time to find Cosmo and Wanda to set things right?


Pete Richard

1-16-09

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Fairly Oddparents_ nor do I own _Resident Evil_, therefore I do not claim ownership of any characters, dialogue, etc. therein. In addition, I am not making any kind of monetary profit from this story.

_The Resident OddParents, pt. 2_

Vicky was growing increasingly concerned. The twerp was not back yet, and his parents were due home any minute now. She knew she was in deep shit, and was wracking her brain for a way to explain both the damage to the house as well as Timmy's absence.

Just as she was about to have a breakdown, Vicky heard a loud crash in the backyard. Apprehensive to see how much more screwed she was, she cautiously approached the backdoor. A flood of despair washed over her as she spied the battered rocket ship that had come to rest in the middle of the Turners' backyard. At that moment, a door opened on the hull of the ship, and out stumbled Timmy. Vicky felt a wave of relief when she saw him, followed by an explosion of fury.

"That…was awesome!" said Timmy, walking around dizzily.

"TWERRRRRRP!" bellowed Vicky.

Timmy quickly snapped out of his giddy reverie and turned to face his babysitter, who was marching toward him with death in her eyes. She stopped in front of him, looming like a colossus. Timmy cowered under her vicious stare.

"Where. Were. You?" Vicky questioned, barely holding back her anger.

"I was, um…" said Timmy, trying to come up with a good excuse.

"Shut up," hissed Vicky. "I have been in the house for the past three hours, wondering where the _heck_ you were. Now, I don't care where the rocket came from, but when your parents get home, you will tell them _everything_. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes…" stammered Timmy.

"Good. Now. GET IN YOUR ROOM!" she thundered.

Not wanting to piss Vicky off more than he already had, Timmy sprinted off to do what he was told. Emotionally exhausted, Vicky slumped down on the couch to rest before she had to deal with the Turners.

Upstairs, Timmy tiptoed through his room, careful not to step on any rickety beams in the floor. Cosmo and Wanda materialized in Timmy's room with Stanley next to them.

"Phew! That was a close one, sport," said Wanda relieved.

"Yeah, for a second it looked like she might eat you alive!" said Cosmo.

"I thought so too," agreed Timmy. "But first things first, I wish the house was back to normal."

Cosmo and Wanda waved their wands, and the house magically pulled itself back together like skin cells repairing a wound. In the backyard, the rocket disappeared and the ground it had ripped up during the landing filled itself in. A few seconds later, the Turners pulled into the driveway.

As they stepped in the door, Vicky pranced over to greet them.

"Why, hello Mr. and Mrs. Turner!" said Vicky, her voice syrupy sweet.

"Hello Vicky!" replied Mr. Turner. "I hope everything went alright with Timmy."

"Actually, he has something he wants to tell you. Why don't I call him so he can come down and tell all of us, hmm? Oh, Timmy!" Vicky sang.

Timmy walked down the stairs nonchalantly, as if all was right with the world. _I've got him this time,_ thought Vicky.

"What was it you wanted to tell us, Timmy?" asked his mother.

"Well," he said, "I have something I want you to see. It's out in the backyard." As the Turners walked to the back door to see their surprise, Vicky's mouth broke into a devilish Grinch-like grin.

"Oh, Timmy," exclaimed his mother. Vicky's grin grew even wider until it almost connected her ears. "They're wonderful!"

Vicky's smile vanished. She looked out into the backyard and all she saw was a beautiful pair of brand-new, hand-crafted green and pink lounge chairs.

"But Timmy, where did you get such beautiful chairs?" asked Mrs. Turner delightedly.

"Uh," said Timmy, searching his brain for a reasonable excuse other than having wished for them from his fairy godparents. "Internet?" he finally blurted out, hoping the ruse would succeed.

"Well thank you, son. That was very nice of you," said Mr. Turner appreciatively.

Vicky could have cried. _How in the hell did he do that?!_ she thought incredulously. There was no _possible_ way for Turner to have fixed the house and the backyard, _and_ gotten rid of that rocket in ten seconds. Her encroaching insanity was the only explanation Vicky's beleaguered brain could come up with.

"Vicky, why don't you come with us and we'll drive you home," said Timmy's mother turning to the still-stunned babysitter.

"O-okay," said Vicky feebly.

As his parents walked Vicky out, Timmy called out, "Bye Vicky, see you next time!" The baby sitter did not respond. Once again, Timmy ran up the stairs to his room to consort with his fairies and make sure Stanley was properly hidden in the closet. Hopefully they could get rid of the zombie soon, as he was beginning to stink.

The next day was Sunday, and Timmy had no time to take Stanley back to the station. His teacher had assigned his class far more homework than should ever be given to fourth graders, and by the time Timmy finished it all, it was well into midnight. Not only that, but the work had left him so physically exhausted that it would be unwise for him to undertake a trip through outer space.

Then on Monday, Timmy thought he and his fairies would have time to take Stanley back, but as it turned out Cosmo and Wanda had an unexpected union meeting in Fairy World. Normally this would not have prevented them from returning to the station, but fairy meetings of any sort were notorious for running long. Even if the union members remained focused, which was unlikely, Cosmo and Wanda would be gone until at least tomorrow morning.

Besides, Timmy's teacher gave him an "F" on his homework for using the wrong color ink, and then gave him a detention for receiving an "F". It would be at least 4 o'clock before Timmy could go home, and he once again had far more homework than any child ever should. _Maybe we can go this weekend_, thought Timmy dejectedly as he sat in the dank detention room watching the hands of the clock slowly mark the passage of time.

Back at the Turners' house, Vicky arrived early. The Turners had asked her to babysit again, and she gladly obliged. Since her near-breakdown after the rocket incident, Vicky had come up with a plan to torment Timmy the next time she babysat. This time however, she would not let him out of her sight and would make him do any and every menial chore she could possibly think of.

Mrs. Turner had told Vicky to let herself in sometime before Timmy's school let out, and mentioned that she had left a note on the table. Vicky studied the note briefly before throwing it into the trash and then heading into the living room to spend some quality time with the television. _This is going to be a fun night_, she thought devilishly.

Vicky plopped herself down onto the couch, propped her feet up, and began flipping through the channels. She could find nothing that interested her, and after about fifteen minutes began to notice a muffled thumping sound coming from above her head. The sound came at irregular intervals, almost as if someone was moving around.

_I guess the runt got home early_, she thought. _Well then, what am I waiting for?_ Vicky got off the couch, stomped over to the foot of the stairs, and yelled, "TWERP! Get down here NOW!"

When Timmy failed to respond, Vicky decided not to wait for him to come down, in case he tried to escape in a rocket again or something. She busted in the door with a powerful kick and stepped in to find nothing, except a few more banging noises and some sort of moaning coming from the closet. Vicky marched over and wrenched open the door. Before she could react, a man smelling of rotten fish seized her.

He pulled Vicky to the ground and sank his teeth deep into her shoulder. She screamed in pain, the wound burning like fire. Vicky managed to get her feet under the man, and pushed him off as hard as she could, sending him crashing through a window and onto the lawn below.

Dazed, Vicky ran out of the Turners' house, leaving the front door wide open. Looking to her left, she saw where the man had dropped and was now getting up, apparently unfazed by the fall. She ran straight home, and when she got into the kitchen she grabbed a dish towel to place on her bleeding shoulder. Peeling back her red-stained shirt, she looked at the bite. It had stopped bleeding, but the veins around the wound now stood out dark against her pale skin.

She knew she needed medical attention, and went over to the wall where a set of car keys hung. Vicky snatched them up and went into the garage. She climbed into the family car and with a trembling hand put the keys in the ignition. She hastily backed out of the driveway, knocking over her own mailbox in the process, and roared off down the street towards the nearest hospital.

About half an hour later, Timmy dragged himself up to the house, exhausted. It had been a long day at school, and that was before he received his detention. He stepped through the doorway, failing to notice that it was open, and called out to his parents to let them know he was home. Getting no response, Timmy shut the door behind him, plodded over to the couch, and collapsed onto it. Lifting the remote control, he turned the TV on and began flipping through the channels apathetically. He soon fell asleep. Timmy slept blissfully, unaware of the trouble that was brewing right outside his door.

Several hours later, he awoke in a stupor. The TV was still on from the previous afternoon. He heard Chet Ubetcha, the local newscaster, saying something about a riot or something sweeping through town. Still groggy from sleep, Timmy failed to take notice.

He got up from the couch, and trudged into the kitchen in a haze. He sat down at the table, expecting his mom to be bustling around, busily making breakfast. Instead, he sat alone, the kitchen cold and silent. There were no plates or silverware set out, no toast or Pop-tarts in the toaster, no eggs cooking on the stove, just Timmy waiting tranquilly for a non-existent breakfast.

Wondering where his parents were, Timmy looked at his watch. A feeling of horror threw him out of his stupor as he realized that he had overslept and would be late for the bus. Timmy dashed up to his room to change clothes and immediately noticed the broken window and open closet door. Tip-toeing around the dark red splotch on the floor, Timmy looked into his closet for Stanley. He found only torn restraints, and surmised that the zombie had chewed through them.

Timmy then ran over to the smashed window, almost cutting his hand on the shards of glass littering the sill. He guessed that the zombie fallen out the window after that, which accounted for the broken glass. _That means Stanley's loose_, thought Timmy, dreading the implications. He would have to deal with it later, since the bus would be there any second. Still pulling his shirt down, Timmy leapt down the stairs, out the front door, and ran to the street panting to wait for the bus.

When no bus came, he began walking. All over the street, he saw cars stalled in the street, their doors left open. Several were on their sides burning. And all over the ground were the same dark splotches Timmy had seen by his closet. Doors of houses were thrown open, windows smashed, but despite the devastation around him, all was quiet. Timmy began to grow uneasy. It was too quiet on the street, something was wrong.

A moan came from behind him. Timmy turned around and spotted his neighbor Mr. Dinkleburg ambling towards him slowly from behind a van. As his neighbor drew nearer, Timmy realized that the man's skin was the same dead-fishy color as Stanley's and began to back away. _This is worse than I thought_, realized Timmy.

He broke into a run, as more moans drifted to him from behind bushes, inside houses and cars, and on the street. Zombies came pouring onto the street from all over, quickly surrounding Timmy and cutting off his escape. The zombies shuffled closer and closer, and Timmy began to prepare himself for the inevitable, wishing that Cosmo and Wanda could be there to help him.

Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed Timmy by the shirt and yanked him off the ground. He looked up to see none other than the Crimson Chin, Dimmsdale's hero! The Chin's skintight red suit was torn in places and the Chin looked tired, but also relieved.

"Thanks Chin! I thought that was the end back there!" exclaimed Timmy gratefully.

"You're lucky I found you! Those things have been attacking nonstop since yesterday! Catman, Chompy and I have been rounding up the survivors all night and hiding them in the school gym. You'll be safe there!" the Chin reassured him. Timmy was glad to know that Dimmsdale's lesser hero and goat mascot were still around at least.

The Chin flew into the school gymnasium and placed him down gently inside the entrance. "You'll be alright here for now. I'm going to go talk to Catman and Chompy and form a plan of action!" he said and walked off. Timmy looked around and saw his best friends Chester and AJ guarding the entrance.

AJ sat atop Chester's shoulders, gripping what appeared to be some kind of headgear. Timmy recognized it as AJ's science project from last year. The apparatus was designed to reflect light off Chester's braces, focusing it into one intense laser beam that could slice through titanium. Timmy could understand why AJ had chosen to arm himself with this particular device.

"Timmy!" said AJ, overjoyed to see his friend once again.

"Ay, 'Immee's eere!" said Chester, his words distorted by the headgear.

"I'm so glad you made it! I've heard these things have been, well…eating people," AJ murmured, not wanting to panic the other survivors, of which there were surprisingly few.

"Yeah, I'd be done for if it weren't for the Chin!" Timmy replied.

At that moment, a banging sound came from the gym entrance. The zombies has stormed the school grounds and were breaking in the doors. At the head of the pack was Stanley, blood staining the front of his jumpsuit, and next to him a dead-fish-colored Vicky, blood likewise staining her blouse. AJ took careful aim and shot a few laser beams at the approaching zombies. The beams cut through the Vicky and Stanley's soft midsections, and they fell to the ground, their torsos still moving.

"AJ, aim for the head!" yelled Timmy, remembering that it was a zombie's only weakness. Following his friend's advice, AJ's next few shots were more successful, though more and more zombies were beginning to push through.

The survivors in the gym began to scream in panic and terror. Abruptly, a plan began to form in Timmy's mind. Rushing into action, he dashed over to where the town heroes were evacuating the survivors into the school building. He called the heroes and Chester and AJ over to him, and began to outline his plan.

"We need to create a diversion. If someone can get out of here, they can draw the zombies away from everyone else. Catman, you take everyone up to the roof," he ordered. "Chester and AJ, you go with him. The Chin, Chompy and I will rush out and try to draw the zombies away, and we'll need cover fire."

"Timmy, you can't do that, it's too dangerous!" cried AJ, concerned for his friend.

"There's no time to argue, we have to do this now!" replied Timmy.

Although he didn't like the idea of his friend sacrificing himself, AJ knew it was the only way to save the rest of the survivors, and gave his silent consent.

"Alright, once the zombies have moved off, I want Chester, AJ, and Catman to take the survivors as far from Dimmsdale as you can get," said Timmy gravely. "Don't worry about us, we'll be fine."

While Chester, AJ, and Catman got into position, Timmy, Chompy, and the Crimson Chin prepared for the fight ahead. Timmy had the Chin break open the equipment room adjoining the gym and examined the racks of sports equipment before selecting a thick wooden baseball bat. Timmy mounted Chompy and balanced atop the goat's furry back just as the zombies broke through the doors.

"CHARGE!" Timmy shouted. The three rushed into the melee and began beating a path through the horde collected outside the school. Chompy butted and kicked the zombies in a whirlwind of white fur, horns, and hooves, while Timmy swung the bat left and right at the hands that tried to grab them. All the while, lasers danced through the crowd, mowing down zombies.

When they had cleared a large enough space, Chompy leapt into the air and landed away from the mass of undead humanity. Timmy looked back for the Crimson Chin, but could find no sign of him. Suddenly, the Chin broke free and stumbled away from the pack.

Timmy was devastated to see dozens of bites all over the Chin's body. The Crimson Chin looked up at him panting, and said "Go, Timmy!" before jumping back into the fray.

"Chin, no!" cried Timmy. The Crimson Chin threw several more punches before being swallowed up amid the moaning mob. The Chin had fallen, and Timmy knew it was all his fault. Shaking off the thought, he realized that the Chin's sacrifice had distracted the zombies long enough for him to get away. He turned Chompy around and galloped off towards the city with several zombies in tow.

Meanwhile, Cosmo and Wanda had just arrived back in Timmy's room. Surprised to see that their charge was absent, the couple looked around. Wanda immediately noticed the dark splotches on the floor, as well as the chewed-through bindings on the closet floor. A creeping dread had begun to sink upon her when Cosmo called her to the broken window. The pair looked out and saw what had become of Dimmsdale.

"Oh no," gasped Wanda. "Timmy!"

Just then, Timmy and Chompy were riding through the streets of downtown Dimmsdale, dodging abandoned cars and zombies. There were many more undead here in the city than in the suburbs, and it was getting harder and harder for the pair to keep clear of their grasping hands.

As Chompy jumped a car, a zombie unexpectedly stood up and made a grab for the goat's foreleg. Acting on reflex, Timmy swung the bat downwards, sending the zombie reeling with a loud crack. As Chompy landed, Timmy realized that the cracking sound did not come from the zombie's head, but from his baseball bat as it splintered.

Dropping the useless handle, Timmy clutched Chompy's white fur with his other hand and held tight as the goat galloped on. Chompy abruptly skidded to a halt, almost sending Timmy flying. The pair was in the middle of an intersection, completely surrounded. Chompy turned in circles, bleating in alarm. They had reached the end of the line.

"I'm sorry, Chompy," said Timmy, apologizing. "I didn't want to you to get hurt!" He felt the weight of another death upon his shoulders. _I wish we hadn't brought that zombie home_, he thought. As if to reassure him, Chompy bleated contentedly, nuzzling Timmy's leg.

The zombies were almost upon them. Timmy had begun to brace himself for the end when he heard voices in the distance calling out his name. He perked up. That sounded like…Cosmo and Wanda!

"Cosmo! Wanda!" he cried out.

Hearing their names, the two fairies looked to their left to spot a small figure in the middle of a multitude of zombies. Flying over, Wanda cried out, "Timmy! Make a wish!"

As the cold hands gripped him, Timmy cried "I wish everything was back to normal!"

A wind rushed through the streets and Timmy felt as if he were being hurled through time and space. After what seemed like an eternity, his body came to rest in his bedroom. He looked around and saw that his room was spotless. Everything was back in its place, except for one thing.

"Cosmo? Wanda?" Timmy asked hesitantly.

The fairies materialized in his room and instantly embraced him. "Oh, we were so worried about you Timmy! We thought something had happened to you," said Wanda, visibly relieved.

"Don't ever do that to us again! See what happens when you play around with zombies?" scolded Cosmo. Timmy and Wanda's eyes narrowed to slits as they glared at him. Wanda's wand flashed.

Several wishes later, Timmy and Wanda were relaxing outside in the new lounge chairs, sipping lemonade, and enjoying the sight of Cosmo running around in cat form, screaming in terror as a pack of wolves chased him around the backyard. The pair felt it a fitting recompense for all that had happened as a result of Cosmo's idiocy, and for his last remark.

"You think he's learned his lesson?" asked Wanda, only half-seriously.

"Eh, give it a few more minutes to sink in," said Timmy as they both laughed maniacally, thoroughly enjoying the show. Finally, everything was back to how it should be.

4


End file.
